


As the Bells Ring True and Sweet

by misura



Category: Lymond Chronicles - Dorothy Dunnett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 18:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12042042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Christian shrugged. "Shall I agree to have you for my husband for no better reason than that your company pleases me?""I should hope nobody so foolish as to commit themselves to another for as poor a reason as that," said Lymond.





	As the Bells Ring True and Sweet

"Why, you - " sputtered Sym, as outraged as if Lymond had asked the question of his good self, rather than of Christian, who still sat, her expression serene.

"You must know that I am engaged to wed Tom Erskine," she said.

"And it was kind of you to accept his suit," said Lymond, paying no heed whatsoever to Sym, whose face was turning an alarming shade of red. "Kind, and prudent, too. I don't doubt for even an instant that Tom would have made you a fine husband, hard-working, considerate and faithful."

Christian might have smiled. "Whereas you propose to be a lazy, inconsiderate and faithless one?"

"I don't doubt that he would be," muttered Sym, darkly.

"And I'll be true to my love, an my love be true to me," said Lymond. "I don't deny it's selfish - monstrously so, even, but then, never have I laid claim to sainthood."

"She saved your life, she did," said Sym, forgetting for the moment it had been a joint effort, in which he had played his part as well.

Unlike Christian, though, he had been slow to add up the clues, thereby arriving at the true identity of the man whose life and freedom they had rashly preserved.

"An action casting certain doubts on her good sense, but even so, I will allow that even a woman of such high intelligence and impeccable reason may on occasion be led astray by sentiment," said Lymond. "Allowances must be made in these matters. Else, how would anyone end up marrying at all?"

Sym's expression indicated dissatisfaction, although his mouth remained closed.

"You have not yet answered my question, Mr. Crawford," said Christian. "Save from praising Tom's qualities, you have given me little reason to even consider your request."

"Call it a most humble plea and have done with it," said Lymond. "Must I sing my own praises? You know who I am well enough. You must know, then, what a villain I am."

Sym's gaze spoke silent yet clear of agreement.

Christian shrugged. "You are hoping to appeal to my sentiments again? Should I agree to have you for my husband for no better reason than that your company pleases me?"

"I should hope nobody so foolish as to commit themselves to another for as poor a reason as that," said Lymond. "Say rather that when I am near you, you feel alive, experiencing the world around you in ways you never thought possible before. Say that my image haunts you, awake and in your dreams. Say that your mouth cannot find the words to capture the feelings in your heart, that your hands tremble at the thought of holding me, and that your head seems filled with cotton when I am near. Say that the worst torture seems preferable to being told that I have been wounded or hurt."

"I believe myself capable of expressing my own feelings very well," said Christian.

"Yes," agreed Lymond. "And so the fact that you have not yet told me off can only give me hope. A crueler or less steadfast woman might make me wait, but you are neither."

"What do you imagine you might give me that Tom cannot?" asked Christian, attempting to sound practical, reasonable.

"I will not be the least considerate," said Lymond. "I don't propose I shall never cast an appreciative glance at others. I may leave you alone for months on end, without a single word."

"These are the things you offer in exchange for my own promise to never look at any other man?"

"Must you promise? I had understood your condition to last the rest of your life," said Lymond.

Sym produced a sound as if he was choking on a hot potato.

"You will never again protect me by concealing things from me. You will tell me everything that is important to you, or that may hurt you," said Christian. "You will let me help you when it is within my ability to do so, which is something you will trust me to judge for myself."

"Hadn't you rather I fetched you the moon, or all the grain in Spain?"

"And what use would either of those two things be to me, Mr. Crawford?" inquired Christian. "These are my terms. They are not negotiable."

"If I accept them, you may very well come to regret my having done so, likely for the rest of your life."

"You must also permit me to tell Tom myself, before he hears it from anyone else," said Christian.

"By all means," said Lymond. "Who am I, to deny a man the right to have his hopes dashed and his heart broken in person, rather than by gentle rumor?"

"Someone with grounds for neither jealousy nor complaint," replied Christian.

"When has that ever stopped anyone?" Lymond sighed. "Fear not, I bear Tom Erskine no ill will. Rather, knowing his loss, I shall extend to him my sympathy, in mind, if not in words spoken or written."

"Yes," said Christian. "That may be for the best."

"We cannot strive for less than that, nor more," said Lymond. "It is to be yes, then? I am to have my wings clipped, to henceforth sing as the caged birds sing?"

"So it would seem." Christian put her hand on Sym's arm. "A few minor details may need working out on a later date."

"I suppose I'm to leave the two of you alone now?" complained Sym.

"A few moments only, if you please," said Christian.

"If it pleases not, you may stay away longer," said Lymond.


End file.
